The Case of the Dark Artefacts
by drcjsnider
Summary: A crate of Dark Artefacts have been delivered to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Ron has been assigned to find them and bring to justice whoever imported them. A Ron and Hermione post-war story.


Title: The Case of the Dark Artefacts  
Rating: PG- 13  
AN: Written for Spring Image Challenge. This is the image I had to work with: img src=".com/albums/ss124/checkmated_". I'd like to give a big thanks to Kazfeist and Queenb23 for agreeing to beta this. They are both absolute dolls, who in addition to preventing me from looking foolish, provide much needed reassurance.

Ron Weasley stretched his legs out in front of him and slouched down in his chair. Usually he enjoyed the morning Auror briefings, but today his mind kept wandering back to his girlfriend. Ever since Hermione had moved in with him two months ago, she'd been trying to figure out the most effective way to wake him up in the morning. Several of her attempts had been bloody annoying – like the stinging hex to his buttocks. This morning's experiment, however, had real potential.

He had woken up to Hermione straddling him and pressing kisses all over his face. Ron had allowed her to think it was wasn't working, keeping his eyes closed and his breathing steady until she'd given a cute little huff of exasperation. He'd then grabbed her by the arms and rolled on top of her, burying his face into her neck and gently biting her skin, causing her to squeal in mock fright.

"Who dares wake the big, strong, powerful Auror!" he had growled in the voice he used when trying to intimidate suspects.

Despite her vulnerable position, Hermione had rolled her eyes. "Oh please, I happen to know all of your weaknesses."

Still holding her down, Ron had scoffed. "I don't have any weaknesses."

"Chocolate frogs, spiders, this…"

Ron had felt Hermione's knee come up and rub against his morning erection. He'd clenched his teeth together to stop himself from moaning.

"Me."

With that, he had bent down and captured her mouth with his. They'd spent the next twenty minutes 'wrestling', as Harry insisted on referring to what Ron and Hermione did together in their bedroom so he never had to verbally acknowledge the fact they had sex, then rushed through their morning showers, barely making it to work on time.

He began paying attention to Auror Dawlish handing out assignments for the day only after Harry kicked him in the foot. Ron assumed he and Harry would be on Diagon Alley patrol. They always patrolled the main thoroughfare the first week of every month. According to Minister Shacklebolt, the general wizarding population stayed calmer if it got to see Harry in his Auror robes on a regular basis, and Ron never minded. He liked being able to chat with George, Ollivander, Hannah, and all his other friends who worked in that part of London.

He was taken aback, therefore, when Dawlish called out, "Potter and Ackerley, patrol Diagon Alley. Weasley, you are with me."

Glancing over, Ron saw Harry shrug his shoulders before standing up and heading off with the new recruit.

"Weasley, my office," Dawlish barked before striding away.

Ron stood slowly, worried that despite the day's amazing beginning, things were now going rapidly downhill.

0-0-0

Ron had barely taken a seat, when Dawlish shoved a folder at him. "We've got a problem that I need you to take care of."

Opening the case file, Ron frowned as he started to read the report inside. The Auror monitoring the Muggle Customs Office the evening before had noticed a shipment of Dark Artefacts being collected by a representative of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. "Why didn't Whitby deal with this last night?"

"Apparently the official from the DRCMC refused to hand over the box of Artefacts. Rather than cause a scene in front of the Muggles, Whitby followed him back to Ministry. When he tried to gain admittance to the Department, however, he found the facility locked and none of the guards willing to permit a search until this morning."

Ron flipped to the second page of the report. "And today, no one on that level will admit to having received a Dark Artefact shipment?"

Dawlish nodded.

"Does Whitby have any proof beyond what he saw last night that this crate really arrived at the Ministry?"

Dawlish passed Ron an evidence bag that had two leaves sealed inside it.

"What's this?"

"Stinging Nettle leaves. They are used in a host of dark potions and magical items. Whitby found one at the Customs Office and one outside the door of the DRCMC."

Ron placed the file and the evidence bag on the desk then rubbed his eyes. "Why me?"

"Why do you think?" Dawlish replied, arching an eyebrow.

"But sir…" Ron began only to get cut off.

"Weasley, you know as well as I do that three-fourths of the people who work in that department are nutters. All they care about is not upsetting magical creatures and insuring the ethical treatment of all types of monsters. We won't get anywhere with them unless I send in someone with a personal connection to a respected member of their staff. So unless you have broken up with your girlfriend in the last twelve hours, this case is now yours."

Ron thought about protesting the characterization of the staff of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures as being dominated by batty beasts' rights do-gooders, but since he'd been on the receiving end of several lectures from Hermione's co-workers about everything from the necessity of a 'Ghost Repatriation Act' to how Crup-fighting would soon become a bigger spectator sport than Quidditch if the Ministry didn't act soon to declare it illegal, he figured that Dawlish probably had a point.

0-0-0

Twenty minutes later, Ron tried to stroll casually into Hermione's office. "Hey, luv."

She didn't look up from her work. "No, no, and yes."

"What? I haven't even asked you anything yet."

That did make her look up. "No, we are not hiding any Dark Artefacts. No, there were no Dark Artefacts shipments accepted last night. And yes, Whitby is an idiot."

Ron grinned, not even bothering to ask how she knew why he was there. Hermione was wrong and he was going to enjoy himself. "Then how do you explain this?"

Hermione picked up the evidence bag Ron laid on the desk, her eyes open wide in surprise. "Ron, these are Stinging Nettle leaves! They are a banned substance, used in all kinds of Dark Magic. Where in the world did you get them?"

"Whitby found them; one last night at Customs and one outside of this department."

"Impossible," she murmured, turning the bag over in her hands to examine the back of the leaves.

"You know, Hermione, not everyone in the Ministry besides you and your co-workers are dolts. It is possible that Whitby is right and there is something suspicious going on here," Ron replied, sounding slightly irritated by her dismissive attitude.

"Of course not everyone working at the Ministry is a dolt, but you must admit that as an institution we have more than our fair share. That, however, is beside the point. There was already a thorough search of the department this morning and no evidence of a crate of Dark Artefacts was found."

"Then you won't mind if I give a look around the facility?" Ron spoke in a commanding tone that made typical wizards and witches nod in agreement.

Unfortunately for him, Hermione didn't respond like the typical witch. "Yes, I mind! You just can't go poking around here and disrupting everyone's activities, especially since your department has already disturbed our entire morning."

"Really? Was your morning disturbed? Did you waste time participating in the pointless search?"

Hermione shook her head, her cheeks flushing and mouth quirking slightly with a smile. "No, I got to the office later than normal today because of my randy boyfriend."

He grinned back at her. "Let's compromise. We'll search together; if you are right and there are no Dark Artefacts in this department, tonight I'll be yours to command."

"And if you are right?"

"Then this evening you'll get to pretend to be a Quidditch groupie to my all-star Chudley Cannon's Keeper."

Hermione laughed. "Fine, but don't be disappointed if you end up spending the night rearranging our file cabinet."

As Ron and Hermione searched the department they talked comfortably about what was going on in their respective offices. It was amazing how easily they'd maintained their easy friendship in spite of starting a romantic relationship. The things they'd enjoyed about each other before had simply multiplied when there was no longer the underlying tension of unexpressed feelings.

When they reached the back wall of the department, Hermione smiled broadly, almost bouncing on the tips of her toes in anticipation. "See, I told you, no Dark Artefacts. I'm going to spend the rest of the day figuring out how best to make use of my prize tonight."

Ron couldn't help but grin in return. She was just so damn beautiful when excited. "Not so fast." He pointed at a door in the wall marked Danger – Entry to Authorized Personal Only. "We still haven't looked back there."

"That's the just the quarantine facility for magical beasts. Nothing is stored back there."

"I'd still like to see for myself."

"You're postponing the inevitable."

"Indulge me."

Hermione grabbed Ron's robes and pulled him down until she could kiss him. "Only because it's you," she murmured against his lips.

He gave her a quick hug and then released her so she could drop the wards around the door. He then followed her inside and waited while she raised the protections around the area once again.

"There are fifteen rooms located off this corridor. Each one can house a group of magical or mundane beasts that requires observation." She took a clipboard off a hook on the wall and flipped through the pages. "It looks like there are currently five rooms being used."

Ron nodded and moved past her to the first door. Looking through the glass, he saw what appeared to be a roomful of drunken Bowtruckles. He raised his eyebrows at Hermione.

She shrugged. "A pub owner in Sherborne found them in a barrel of mead three months ago. They still haven't sobered up."

"That must have been some really great mead," Ron chuckled.

She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "It's not funny. It's been a real challenge to keep them hydrated and from breaking into fights."

Ron bit his lip and turned his head to keep from laughing even more at the idea of tipsy Bowtruckles duelling. "What's in the next room?"

Hermione glanced down at the clipboard. "Black aardvarks. They just arrived."

Ron glanced in the room. "Ugly buggers. Why are they here?"

"They are supposed to be mundane beasts, but they have been exhibiting high levels of magical essence. We brought them in to try and determine what exactly is causing the alteration."

Ron nodded and started to move on when he noticed something in the corner. "Wait. What is that next to the wall?"

Hermione looked in the room and gasped. "It's another Stinging Nettle leaf! The aardvarks must have been feeding on them in their natural habitat. That explains their high level of magic."

"It also explains where the banned leaves came from," Ron mused. "But it doesn't tell me why Whitby thought he was dealing with Dark Artefacts."

Hermione looked back in the room. "That explains it," she said, pointing to where a crate clearly marked 'Dark Aardvarks' stood. "Is being able to read no longer a requirement for becoming an Auror?"

Ron sighed, determined to wring Whitby's neck the next time they worked together. "Maybe it had some sort of Muggle concealment spell on it that distorted the words."

"I'm sure you are right," Hermione grinned, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Nevertheless, you are mine tonight."

"You're not really going to make me spend hours organizing papers, are you?" he asked, turning in her embrace until he faced her.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I've come up with a better idea. I think I'll pretend to be a helpless Muggle being held captive by drunken Bowtruckles and you can be the big, strong, brave Auror, who is going to save me."

Ron laughed and pulled her more tightly against him. "I think I pull the second part of that off convincingly. I'm not sure I can imagine you as helpless, though."

"I'll hide my wand," she said, tilting her face up to him.

"Still can't picture it."

"And let you tie me up."

Ron smiled widely before kissing his lovely witch passionately. "In that case, I'll be home early with a bottle of mead."

The End


End file.
